


Sarai Sempre il Mio Tesoro

by DragonsIre



Series: Il Mio Tesoro e Il Mio Topolino [3]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Italiano | Italian, M/M, Nightmares, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27710597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonsIre/pseuds/DragonsIre
Summary: The title means “you’ll always be my treasure” & there is some Italian dialogue in the story. Post-“The Old Guard” movie so spoilers. Nicky’s nightmares are back in full force and Joe helps him through it.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Il Mio Tesoro e Il Mio Topolino [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2040866
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Sarai Sempre il Mio Tesoro

**Author's Note:**

> I got a little obsessed with The Old Guard after seeing the movie last week and I adored Joe and Nicky so I decided to write an angst/comfort one-shot for them. Since there is some Italian in here, I’m including the translations at the end. I’m a non-native speaker and haven’t used Italian regularly in about three years so apologies for formal & possibly incorrect Italian in a softer moment. As usual, I don’t own any of the characters or anything like that and I hope y’all enjoy!

The nightmares came back, worse than before, leaving Nicky in a cold sweat trembling against Joe’s chest trying to quiet whimpers without waking up his husband. The older man had had his own panicked awakenings following Booker’s betrayal, but they’d eventually stopped after a few months. It was now nearly two years, and the smaller male still couldn’t sleep through the night. If it wasn’t nightmares of Booker cutting them open and playing with their organs, Nicky was up randomly checking on the North African man, fingers pressed gently to his radial artery.

“Mio caro?” Joe’s voice drew the pale man’s gaze up a broad torso, past his dark beard to concerned eyes squinting in the low light.

Rather than responding, the Genoese buried his head back into his lover’s chest, a low whine escaping. Joe sighed, relieved for the room and bath separate from Andy and Nile as he pulled back from Nicky. “Come along love. Let’s get you a warm bath.”

Mutely, Nicky followed his directions and curled up in the tub, wincing at the heat as water chased away the chill. The artist continuously murmured comforts as he slowly washed the younger’s back, leaning against the edge of the bath and trailing his free hand down Nicky’s arm. It had become a ritual, one they tried not to let Andy know about. Whenever Booker’s double-cross was mentioned, a flash of guilt would make it across their leader’s face before her schooled expression returned. Joe had just begun washing his husband’s hair when the smaller spoke.

“Thank you.”

“Love, my moon, there is nothing to say thank you for. How do you feel?”

“Sono stanco. Mi dispiace, non volevo svegliarti…”

“Non preoccuparti.”

“Vieni qui il mio tesoro.” Nicky didn’t give Joe time to react, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him halfway over the bath’s side for a kiss. Shampoo suds definitely made their way into the kiss, giving it a bitter touch, but neither cared; Nicky needing confirmation that both of them were alive and Joe happily giving it to him. It was only when the older was tasting more soap than his lover that he pulled back, smiling when his husband made a disgruntled noise, eyes pinched shut against the scented lather.

“Sono qui Nicolὸ.” Joe helped rinse out the shampoo, loving how the pale male’s nose scrunched up when the water released sharp mint, and wrapped his shorter partner in a fluffy towel before leading him back to bed. It was low enough that when Nicky was seated, the North African could kneel and still look him in the eyes. “Sarὸ sempre qui il mio topolino.” The endearment had helped chase away nightmares after the Crusades but seemed to do nothing for the most recent set of restless dreams, probably due to the annoying pharma brat having utilized a version of it during his little monologue. Still, as neither had responded poorly to the term post-test-subject-days, Joe continued to use it as he had for nearly a millennium.

“You can’t promise that love; we don’t choose quando moriamo. Per favore, non lasciarmi!” Fear spread across Nicky’s face, making Joe’s heart clench as he realized the root of his lover’s nightmares. Booker wanted to die, was willing to sacrifice them as lab rats to get there, and Andy had lost her immortality. Who’s to say that at one point he wouldn’t become tired of watching the world around them, seeing humans continue to destroy nature and one another, or simply run out of time; leaving Nicky alone with his grief.

The bearded man leaned forward from his place on his knees, resting his forehead against Nicky’s and noticing there was a lingering chill. “Mio caro, I won’t leave you alone; not in this life nor the next.” Joe’s words did nothing to help, a well-known frenzied look appearing, and he had to catch Nicky’s hands as they tried to move from his shoulders to his chest. “No, mio caro, not right now. Later, but not now love. You’ve barely slept, and you need that more than anything. I’ll be right beside you, sempre, alright?” The smaller’s hands trembled as they shifted, pulling his husband forward onto the bed as he lay back until Joe was crushing him. “Will this help?”

“Yes, just – let me hold you tonight.” It wasn’t the first time, but normally Nicky preferred to be the one held, his grip a gentle vice around his lover’s forearms so even if the African tried to move, he couldn’t.

“Of course Nicolὸ. But I need to get comfortable if we’re going to actually sleep.” The Genoese man relaxed his grasp enough for Joe to reposition himself, still half on top of his husband with his head resting on Nicky’s shoulder. “Now no watching me sleep mio caro. Time to rest those beautiful eyes.”

“Alright.” The pair fell silent, Nicky trying to unwind and match Joe’s even breaths as he quickly sank into sleep, but in the end the pale man just watched his partner. Hours passed without Nicky realizing, and it was only when sun crept in through the thin curtains that he begin to drift. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming when he thought he felt Joe move, his arms tightening and receiving a brush of lips along his collarbone.

“Mio caro, non sono un vero tesoro accanto a te.”

“Sarai sempre il mio tesoro.” Nicky tried to mumble back, lulled into dreams by the sound of Joe’s quiet chuckle.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked this one-shot – maybe now I can get back finishing up stories and cleaning my hard drive out! It’s probably obvious I love when tired people slip back and forth between languages – some people may find it annoying but it’s my experience that sticking to one language is pretty tough in the middle of the night, even if you're fluent in multiple. Also, the next piece in this series is a translation of this fic (all English, just italicized).  
> • Mio caro = My dear  
> • Sono stanco. Mi dispiace, non volevo svegliarti… = I am tired. I am sorry, I didn’t want to wake you...  
> • Non preoccuparti. = Don’t worry.  
> • Vieni qui il mio tesoro = Come here my treasure  
> • Sono qui = I am here  
> • Sarὸ sempre qui il mio topolino = I will always be here my little mouse  
> • quando moriamo. = when we die.  
> • Per favore, non lasciarmi! = Please don’t leave me!  
> • Mio caro, non sono un vero tesoro accanto a te. = My dear, I am not real treasure beside you.  
> • Sarai sempre il mio tesoro. = You will always be my treasure.


End file.
